


Timing is Everything

by leftennant



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Wintershock - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Asgard, Bucky Barnes in Bucharest, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Soulmate Identifying Aura, Soulmates, Swearing, Yule, fits into canon if you squint and trust me, hella eastereggs if you're looking, holiday fic, plums
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 02:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9154582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/pseuds/leftennant
Summary: After almost a hundred years of waiting, Bucky Barnes has finally found his soulmate.  There's just one problem.  Timing is everything, and she could not possibly have walked into his life at a worse time.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnieMar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieMar/gifts).



> This is the holiday/winter fic that no one knew I was writing, and almost didn't get written. HOWEVER, IT IS DONE!!!! (awwwww yisssssss) For real you guys, I have been sick since Thanksgiving. NOTHING has gotten written. Do you know how hard it is to fire up your muse when you feel like death for six weeks? Yeah. It's no good. I did the thing though. I DID IT. HA! TAKE THAT RESPIRATORY INFECTION, YOU FUCKER! Ahem. Sorry. Anyway, yeah, I wrote this, and the lovely amidtheflowers beta'd it, and I hope you enjoy it. I also hope all of you had lovely, lovely winter holidays, and a super awesome new year. (because 2016 can go fuck itself, that's all I'm gonna say about that)
> 
> And ANNIEMAR! I put a thing in for you, you precious, perfect bae. Hella hella bff fic dedication. That's what I'm talking about. ;D
> 
> **********************************************************************

The first time Bucky sees his soulmate, she’s at an open air market in Bucharest trying to haggle over the price of limes with what has to be the worst grasp of Romanian he’s ever heard. She catches his eye immediately, drawing him in like a magnet to true north. It’s not what she’s wearing, although the girl is a brilliant bright spot in a canary yellow tunic dress with turquoise beads sewn in swirling patterns around the neckline and hem. It’s not the long dark hair spilling down her back in waves, or her figure, which reminds him of the ones that graced the nosecones of bomber jets when he was a younger man.

No. None of these things are what pulls him in, although he notices everything about her and files each detail away to draw out later when he’s back in his drab apartment alone. What captures his attention from the start is the warm orange glow surrounding her. It ebbs and flows around her, shimmering faintly with every movement she makes.

The aura is invisible to everyone but Bucky. Only true soulmates can see it, and she is his. He briefly wonders what color she would see if she saw him, and dismisses the thought. It’s not something he can allow. The irony isn’t lost on him. After almost a hundred years of waiting, he has finally found his soulmate, and she could not possibly have walked into his life at a worse time. 

Bucky has been living a nomadic lifestyle for close to two years. Bucharest being the latest in a series of throwaway addresses. Each one has been carefully chosen as somewhere where he can disappear and hide away. He keeps a low profile, working menial jobs that pay enough for basic needs, never staying anywhere long enough to make friends or put down roots. 

Nowhere is safe in the cat and mouse game he’s been playing with enemies and former friends alike. The constant fear of being caught has left him exhausted and empty inside. Until he sees her, that is. The moment he spots her, Bucky is filled with a bone-deep longing that makes his heart squeeze in his chest.

It reminds him of a conversation he and Steve had while they were still in the Howlies. Steve said that that when met Peg, the attraction was so fierce that he couldn’t catch his breath for weeks when she was nearby. Bucky just laughed and told Steve he was crazy. It was probably his asthma kicking up or something. Then Peg walked into the bar where they were drinking, and Steve’s breath went ragged just looking at her. It left Bucky wondering what it would be like for him when the time came. Well, now as his lungs stutter uselessly on the air filling them, he knows.

She’s still trying to bargain for the limes. He watches for a few seconds as she types away into her phone, and then attempts to read back whatever is written there. Her accent is abysmal. It’s clear the vendor understands what she’s asking, but it’s also clear that he has every intention of ripping her off. Eventually they agree on a price that makes Bucky shake his head in silence, and she comes away with limes at three times the usual price. 

She continues to make her way through the market, stopping here and there to purchase things. Bucky shadows her from a distance. He has no intention of letting her see him, but the need to stay close is something he can’t fight. The whole time he tells himself that he’s just looking for her safety. She seems so vulnerable, alone in a foreign city with a minimum grasp of the language, and even less of the local customs.

In the end, he tails her all the way back a fancy villa several blocks away. A tall wall surrounds the outside, with a wrought iron gate off to one side, opening into a courtyard beyond. She fumbles in her bag for a key, and slips through the gate while he watches from an alley across the street. 

Bucky notes the address, waiting to make sure she’s not just visiting, but staying there. His guess is confirmed a short time later when she appears in one of the upstairs windows. She’s swapped out her dress for a bathrobe, and her hair is hanging around her face in wet strands. Finally feeling like she’s secure, he fades further into the shadows of the alley and makes the long walk back to his apartment. 

This scenario is repeated several times over the following weeks. Bucky keeps an eye on the market, making sure his vantage point is enough off the beaten track that she won’t notice his presence. 

The days she appears are like magic, full of color and light. He sketches each one out in words later, filling pages of a blank notebook with what she said and did while he sits at the scarred table in his kitchen. It’s a type of self-preservation. His life has had so little hope to cling to, and he can’t afford to forget her. Not now. So he watches, and he writes. The days pass quickly, marked only by whether or not he’s seen her. 

Lately she’s been stopping at this small bakery and buying sweet plum papanasi. She’s also been buying plums from the fruit vendors. It doesn’t take him long to make the connection between the two. She’s been trying to work the recipe out for herself back at the villa. At the rate she’s been purchasing plums, she hasn’t quite gotten it yet.

Then comes the day when everything changes. 

His soulmate is back in the marketplace. Bucky is keeping his distance, just staying close enough to keep her in sight. Suddenly she doubles back without warning, and he’s trapped between a row of stalls and a large family arguing with a vendor over the price of bread. There’s less than ten feet between them, and nowhere for him to go. He can either hold his ground and hope she doesn’t turn around, or duck behind the stalls, which is bound to draw attention. 

He decides to hold his ground. It’s a reckless move, but one that let’s him get closer to her than he ever has. She stops at the stall across the way, and he can’t help but overhear the transaction. It’s obvious that she’s going to be overpaying again. The vendor is looking at her like Christmas came early. More to the point, she’s about to be robbed. Bucky can see the thief zeroing in on the straw bag over her shoulder. It’s a woman, probably working with the vendor, if the look they just exchanged means anything.

Bucky knows he shouldn’t get involved. The entire shaky existence he’s managed to eek out in Romania has hinged on laying low and minding his own business. Getting involved, even in this small instance, is the very last thing he needs. It’s a matter for the local police. If he gets any closer she’ll see him, and everything he’s tried to prevent for weeks will fall apart. Protecting her from this will put her in far more serious danger. There’s nothing else he can do.

Even knowing that, it’s agonizing for Bucky to do nothing but watch. His soulmate has barely got the sack of plums in her hands when the thief strikes. The fruit goes everywhere as her bag is ripped from her shoulder. 

“Mother _fucker_!” she yells, tearing off through the market after the woman who swiped her purse. “Goddamn motherfucking pickpocket ASSHOLE! GET BACK HERE WITH MY SHIT!!!!”

Bucky's floored by the mouth on her. Floored and impressed. He weaves swiftly through the throngs of people to make sure she’s okay, and is even more impressed when he finally catches up to her. She’s tackled the now bloody thief, and is in the process of retrieving her bag. _Loudly_.

“Listen up you two-bit, criminal mastermind, asshat. I did not survive a fucking Norse god with daddy issues, live through a blistering cold winter in Tromsø with only scientists for company, and fight off an attack on London by lunatic space elves just to be robbed by a random human girl on my vacation abroad. Got it? THIS. IS. MY. REWARD. FOR. SURVIVING. THOSE. THINGS. I’m on a break. A BREAK. And now I don’t have my plums, I scuffed my favorite sandals, and I had to take time out of my busy shopping schedule to chase down my purse. So you can just take your sad attempt at petty theft and shove it straight up your ass. You!” She points at one of the bystanders. “Call the police and tell them to take care of this mess. I’m going home.”

With that, she stands up, hefts her bag back onto her shoulder, and marches off in the direction of her villa. Her aura is blazing, a vibrant golden orange haze pulsing all around her with each step. Bucky is left staring after her with his jaw on the ground. It occurs to him he may have underestimated his soulmate. 

He ruminates on this for the better part of the day, and most of the night. By morning he has come to a decision. It’s his fault that she didn’t get her plums. If he had intervened, she never would have been robbed. The right thing to do would be to replace them, introduce himself...and ask if she would possibly consider marrying a ninety-nine year old, internationally wanted criminal with a metal arm. It’s a shot in the dark, but he has a feeling that maybe she’d accept.

He’s whistling as he walks down to the fruit vendor, and smiling as he purchases the plums. Ten seconds later everything goes to shit. Bucky loses his plums, his soulmate, and his freedom in a single stroke.

He doesn’t see her again for a very long time.

**********Asgard: Three Years Later**********

The Yule Celebrations in Asgard are in full swing, and Bucky wishes he were anywhere else. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate what Thor has done for him. He does. For close to a year he’s had his mind back fully under his own control, and has been living safe and unhunted in another realm. He’s relearning what it feels like to let his guard down again. Bucky has Thor to thank for that, but Asgard isn’t anything like Earth, and large gatherings of people still make him edgy.

He can’t help but scan the room, assessing any possible threats. There aren’t any. The palace banquet room is filled with noisy, laughing people enjoying the holiday spirit. To his left, Volstagg is tossing back what looks like an entire cask of mead. Thor is down the table on his right. Seated next to him is Jane Foster. 

Bucky met her for the first time earlier that day. She seems nice. Quiet. Thor is completely gone on her, that much is apparent. She brought a friend along who Bucky hasn’t met yet. The seat next to him is empty, he guesses is must be for the friend. Hopefully whoever she is, she’s quiet like Jane. He doesn’t feel much like making conversation with a strange girl.

Fandral strolls by, a woman under each arm, and gives Bucky a knowing wink as he passes. Bucky grins to himself. It’s been a long time, but he remembers what that feels like. Maybe sitting next to Jane’s friend won’t be so bad after all.

It’s then that he hears it, the voice that's haunted his dreams and waking hours alike ever since Bucharest. “Jane! I am _so_ sorry I’m late. I couldn’t figure the damn dress out, so I just sort of wore one of my own. I hope that’s okay, because there’s not a whole lot I can do about it now.”

The hairs stand up on the back of Bucky’s neck, and a hot, shivery feeling rushes over his skin. It can’t be. His head swivels around, eyes searching for the owner of the voice. The warm orange glow of her aura is what he sees first. It pierces through the crowd around her, showing her progress across the room. Then she comes fully into view, and he can’t help but stand up.

She’s wearing a black cocktail dress and some kind of crown thing on her head that looks like it’s made out of silver holly. Most of the women present are wearing something similar on their heads, but right now, Bucky’s soulmate is the only one he can see. Her gaze falls on him as she’s approaching her seat at the table, she stops in her tracks, eyes widening.

“Holy shit. It’s you,” she says. “It’s _you_.” When Bucky doesn’t immediately reply, she takes a deep breath and continues. “What are you doing in Asgard? Nevermind. That doesn’t matter. _Hi _. This is crazy. You’re all _blue_! Am I blue too?” __

__She gestures at him, then at herself, and Bucky swallows hard. He’s blue. All this time. Blue._ _

__“Orange,” he replies hoarsely, answering her question. “Your, uh...your aura. It’s orange.”_ _

__“Orange! I always wondered. I’m Darcy, by the way. Don’t say it. I already know. My mom has this thing about book names, and now you’re totally stuck with me and my ridiculous name. I’m really sorry about that.”_ _

__Bucky can’t be sure, but it looks like she has tears in her eyes even though she’s smiling. His mind is still spinning. “It’s not ridiculous.”_ _

__“Well, it’s not exactly something common. You know, like James.” Darcy gives him a meaningful look, and he feels himself smiling back._ _

__“If you know who I am, then you know it’s not James,” he responds dryly. It’s the closest he’s come to flirting in decades._ _

__She tilts her head. “So, does that mean I get to call you Bucky? Because, Bucky, I have a serious question to ask you.”_ _

__The way she asks makes his heart thud. Long forgotten feelings begin to surface, along with some of his old charm. He leans closer to her, lowering his voice. “You can ask me anything, doll.”_ _

__“Do you want to get out of here? Because I don’t know about you, but it’s not exactly like I meet my soulmate every day, and I feel like maybe we should go somewhere with way less people and figure stuff out. Like my room. It’s upstairs.”_ _

__“Did you just invite me up to your room?”_ _

__“Yes. Did I mention it’s upstairs?”_ _

__He nods. “You did.”_ _

__“Super. Is that a yes? Because if it is, I will totally swipe one of these bottles of…” Darcy pauses, squinting at the closest earthenware bottle in an attempt to figure out what’s inside._ _

__“Mead,” Bucky offers. “That one’s empty.”_ _

__“Dammit, Volstagg.” She frowns for a moment, and then brightens up as she spots another bottle. “What about that one over there?”_ _

__“Still has the cork.”_ _

__“Fantastic. Okay, so I will swipe that bottle, and you grab two tankard things, and we will go up to my room and get to know each other while drinking Asgard’s finest. I might even kiss you. Maybe. If you’re good. How’s that sound?”_ _

__It sounds like the best damn plan Bucky has heard in nearly eighty years. He grabs the tankards, and offers her his arm. “Sounds good. Just one question.”_ _

__“What’s that?”_ _

__“What happens if I’m bad?” He’s definitely flirting now, and she looks up at him with one eyebrow arched._ _

__“I don’t know, Bucky. I guess you’ll just have to be bad and find out.”_ _

__They end up talking all night. He tells her about Romania, and she listens intently, laughing when he describes what it was like watching her take down the thief. Sometime around dawn she decides he’s been good and gives him the kiss she promised. That kiss turns into several more, and they end up working their way across the room to her bed. The silver holly crown tumbles to the floor as she pulls him down on top of her._ _

__“Are we…?” he starts to ask, and she silences him with another kiss._ _

__There’s not a lot of talking after that. At least, not the kind of talking that really goes anywhere. Bucky figures that’s okay. Everything is okay really, and it looks like it’s going to be that way for a very long time._ _


End file.
